Deep conversations in marriage are like land mines, you never know when one is gonna blow up in your face. Especially if you are married to me.
Say you are Eric, you are going about your usual business, running errands, working at your computer, happy as a bee, thinking about the new Beck album, when out of nowhere, and without warning, your crazy wife, who has been stewing on some crazy topic for a number of hours decides SHE NEEDS TO TALK ABOUT IT RIGHT THIS SECOND.
And not only talk about it, but solve it, fix it, worry about it, come to terms with it, and then feel resolved about it enough to write an instructional book about what to do should one find themselves in a similar situation.
These types of conversations always take place at inconvenient times and in totally inopportune locations. Such as our most recent one, which took place in Eric’s truck parked in front of Maverick on my 60-minute lunch break that had technically been over for 10 minutes.
I put on a fun show for the miscreant Maverick regulars, who were probably waiting for the FUN BUS to Wendover, with my dramatic monologue and bursts of tears.
Anyway, after I had solved the world’s problems, and was feeling a bit drained, Eric suggested I get a Diet Coke, which as you all know always makes me feel better, before he took me back to work. So I got out of the truck and walked by the men who had no doubt witnessed my hysterics. And as I tried to discreetly sneak by one man said,
“Wow girl! You are HOOOOTTTT!”
“Well thank you,” I said brightening up a bit, “You should tell my husband.”
And then I walked into Maverick with my head held a little taller. I filled up my 32oz cup with a giggle and a smile. I squirted in the cherry flavoring with extra pep, and paid the cashier with extra enthusiasm.
This old creepy man telling me I was HOTTTTT had actually made me feel better. When just 10 minutes before, nothing in the world could have consoled me.
I walked out of the Maverick ready to conquer the world, and started to saunter back to the car, then the same man stopped me again as I passed.
“Excuse me sweetie, can I ask you a favor?” He smiled at me, and even if he was creepy it was a fairly charming smile. “Do you have any money?”
I laughed, and then I set down my drink, got out my wallet and handed him a buck or two.
“God Bless, you really are hot.” Was his thanks.
I walked back to the truck and got in. Still smiling.
That compliment was totally worth the money.
So if you are looking to earn an extra few, you know what to do.